I recently made a bold declaration to the universe. I want to travel the world and write love letters, poems and short stories about the places that captivate my heart. You see, I fall in love with places. Maybe you do too.
My romance with destinations begins and ends with a strong desire to understand every inch of its domain. I long to know the idiosyncrasies of its people – their language, their style, their routines, the places they haunt and the flavors they savor. I desire to see the small, intricate details of every back alley, tiled floor and fabrics with my very eyes. I want to be guided down hidden paths by locals. I want to smell the homemade dinners wafted from the slatted windows, I want to feel the warmth of a mid afternoon in every corner of this world. And, truth be told, my longing to understand each detail comes from a quiet curiosity that I’ve always felt inside.
It doesn’t take much to fall in love, right? Some quiet moments, a flash of heat. It happens in strange ways, unexpectedly and all at once. It happens in quick conversations, over a delicious meal, a setting sun. Give me a day, and I’ll find some small, overlooked detail that absolutely sweeps me off of my feet and keep me reeling for months later.
I’ve fallen in love with Rome’s creamsicle hued frescos and bantering locals, Paris’s blue tiled roof tops, Scotland’s ice-chilling wind from the northern Highlands, China’s pungent smells and ancient tales. I’ve been swept away by Iceland’s wildest landscapes, Japan’s orderly approach to everything and attention to detail, Pennsylvania’s rolling hills. Call me crazy, but there isn’t a single place I haven’t quickly become infatuated with. Because there is so much to love, there is so much to understand, so much to ask, so much to explore.
Each place is almost like a chapter of our lives. Each place becomes a part of us. A placeholder. Who were we when we visited? What drove us wild? What were our struggles? Or triumphs? But, the best part, is that these chapters of our life’s progression are always awaiting us to visit again. They beckon for us to re-explore their roads, to re-ignite the spark. And, I, for one, am always happy to rekindle a romance.
